Dark Harbour: The Tale of the Soul Searcher

by Joseph Kiel

  The Seraph was silent for a few moments and then his speech took a thick, whispery tone: ‘That’s between me and Vladimir. And always will be.’

  ‘You got him though, didn’t you?’ Larry asked. ‘That bastard Des Floyd. You took him out.’

  ‘And out of that box come a whole load of other evils. One evil in particular you can’t yet comprehend. Floyd didn’t become who he was on his own, Lawrence. There’s many things you don’t know about yet. Floyd had a superior, a man they call The Harbour Master.’

  ‘Who’s The Harbour Master?’

  Instead of answering, he just slapped down the Harbour Gazette on the counter. For a moment, Larry wondered if Henry had been scanning through the paper to see if there was any mention about what had happened. That was when he noticed a small headline on the page folded open: ‘Arsonists To Blame For Warehouse Blaze’.

  Larry grabbed the paper and quickly read the article; it didn’t take him long because there were only a couple of paragraphs. It mentioned how an important local figure, Des Floyd, had died trying to put out the fire in his warehouse. A private collection of antique fairground rides that Floyd had passionately preserved had been destroyed.

  ‘Arson? But the police got there. Michael told me he called them! How could it then burst into flames?’ Before Larry could get the question out he realised he knew the answer. Already he was starting to comprehend The Harbour Master’s influence in this town.

  Henry nodded as he saw the realisation on Larry’s face. ‘All the other junk is there. The drunken fights, the domestic disputes, the underage sex. He’s already got his hopeless town without people having to know about his true shadows.

  ‘So what hope is there for us anyway? At what point do we get tired of praying for a better world that never comes? I fear that hope alone is useless when it comes to the malevolent forces of The Harbour Master. I’ve looked into his eyes. I know that Floyd was an amateur in comparison. I need warriors, Lawrence. Because we have an even greater darkness to fight now. And trust me, it’s coming.’

  Larry took a sip of tea. It was just about cool enough to drink now but it still zinged his tongue. It tasted rich, almost metallic.

  ‘White Pearl. Plucked in the fields of Tibet, five-thousand feet above sea level, only when there is a full moon.’

  Larry frowned.

  ‘The tea. They all drink it,’ Henry explained.

  ‘You make them drink it,’ Nigel muttered.

  ‘This was the same one we drank in your office.’

  Henry nodded. ‘Special import. We have something else for you. Nigel.’

  Nigel reached under the counter and brought out a small black box with a gold trim. It was oblong shape, about the length of a shoe. He placed it on the counter and slid it towards Larry.

  ‘Open that box and it all changes. You’ll never be the same again.’

  ‘What’ll happen?’

  ‘You will be a Principal. You’ll be under the command and guidance of Jake who will train you for the higher levels. Maybe you could even make a Power one day. That’s if you open the box.’

  ‘What’s in there?’ Larry asked as he eyed it up.

  ‘The future. You can leave it if you want, finish your tea, go home to your X-Box, watch Coronation Street and float the mainstream. You’ll perhaps stay awake at night wondering if there’s more to life but you’ll be safe. Or you can join us.’

  ‘Playstation. Not an X-Box.’

  ‘It’s entirely up to you, Lawrence.’

  ‘Principal,’ Larry said, trying the word on his tongue.

  Henry nodded and then smiled. It was another glimmer of hope in his never-ending battle. He stood as he put on his bowler hat. As ever, he was dressed as though he was on his way to something important. Enjoying a night at the opera or policing the criminal underworld, both were things that the Seraph of the Fires would be found doing.

  Larry took hold of the box and flipped it open. Inside was a gleaming dagger and a leather scabbard. On the handle of the knife was an inscription that read: ‘Ishim’.

  ‘Work starts at ten o’clock tonight. Jake will be waiting for you in the market square with Clint. There will be wrongs to right, a crumbling world to smack in the face, to remind about virtues and integrity. We’ll do our bit, and we’ll make them know they were on the wrong path. And you? You’ll never see an episode of Coronation Street ever again.’

  Henry whistled cheerfully as he strolled towards the door. Two guys in suits were approaching the café so he held the door open for them. After bidding them a good afternoon, he then continued down the street to his next appointment.

  Nigel discretely closed the box to Larry’s dagger as he greeted the two men. They were office workers, probably on a late lunch. They continued to talk in a hushed tone to each other but Larry was able to hear every word.

  One of them was talking about some girl he was screwing and it was evident that he was too proud of his conquest to care if anyone might overhear him. The other one, who was grinning like a clown, then asked him if he suspected his wife knew anything about it.

  Larry sipped at his White Pearl tea and he felt strong. In fact, he could no longer feel any pain in his knee. Right now, it felt like he could stand up on his own and run a marathon.

  This was good. It felt like he would be a busy man.

  Part 16: The Lost Soulmates

  Chapter 16.1

  Danny started the day believing it was quite possibly the last day he would ever see. There was no morning sunlight streaming into his room when he woke up; the coastal skies were typically congested with gloomy grey clouds, the colour of cadavers, the same colour as Danny’s morning face.

  He mostly went about his day as normal: the Friday morning meeting with his tutor to discuss the essay he would never live to finish, lunch in the canteen with Michael, and then an afternoon in the library surfing the internet. He looked mainly at viral video sites. Watching some lunatic skateboard across apartment blocks felt like something he had to see to make his life complete.

  What was the point of doing any work anyway? He figured he should take it easy with the little time he had left, savouring every breath of air as though it may be his last, waiting for the bullets to tear into his heart at any second. He knew it would be coming after what he was about to do this evening.

  Danny hadn’t thought beyond this day at all. His mind was only on this one evening and anything that followed was like the month of January, the void left over when the world ended at Christmas. This would be the final scene, the end of the story, nothing but rolling credits to follow. Danny wouldn’t be back for the sequel because he’d been written out. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it, nothing to stop his ever-swelling affections and whatever repercussions they may incur.

  But supposing Samuel didn’t really have the guts to murder him and it was all just a hollow threat, Danny still had difficulties projecting his mind forward into the future. Where would Danny and Stella go after this evening? There just didn’t seem to be anything there at all. Only that ominous void.

  Once Danny had had enough of watching internet videos and seeing pictures of what crazy things pet owners could put on their cats, he stuffed all his books in his bag, the ones he’d had out to make it look like he was doing some work, and put on his coat. He then went and caught the next bus back home.

  Michael had already arrived back. When Danny walked in, he was sitting at the kitchen table reading a letter as though his eyes were magnetised to the ink on the paper. It seemed not even an earthquake would shake his concentration from it.

  For a moment, it was as though he was looking at himself reading one of Stella’s letters, unaware of anything else in the universe. Despite these fleeting signs of emotion that Danny saw in him, Michael remained his level-headed self most of the time. He never appeared to be consumed by obsession, haunted by the incessant strained melodies of an internal goblin as Danny was. How did he do it?

 
Danny glanced at the cupboard drawer, the one that contained the cutlery. ‘How’s Faridah?’ he asked.

  Michael was slightly startled to hear Danny’s voice as he tore himself away from her words. ‘Oh hello. She’s good. She’s talking about visiting this summer.’

  ‘About time.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Michael replied distantly as he became absorbed by her words again.

  Danny emptied the kettle and refilled it, his eye still on the silver drawer handle. Maybe he would have a chance against Samuel’s thugs? Perhaps if he was to take a knife with him? ‘I put up an ad in the student union today.’

  ‘Good. Heard from Larry yet?’

  ‘No. He still hasn’t been to get his stuff.’

  Michael put the letter down. ‘I know. Yes, please,’ he said as he saw Danny switching on the kettle.

  ‘Do you think we should phone him?’ Danny asked.

  The thought registered on Michael’s face but he didn’t have an answer to give. Danny should have known better than to face him with a decision, especially when he clearly had other things on his mind.

  ‘Well, pour it when it’s done. I have to go get ready,’ Danny said as he left the room.

  He went upstairs and showered. He then sprayed on some aftershave, the one Stella had remarked on one time. He dressed in his favourite clothes: a white shirt with black buttons, blue jeans. Stuff that was easy to remove. This morning he’d made sure that they were fresh to put on for tonight.

  As he looked in the mirror, he felt his appearance was the best it could be. He had to reflect her awesome yin with whatever yang he had. He didn’t quite have the David Beckham figure and the George Clooney charisma that Samuel had, but obviously Stella responded to some other quality in Danny.

  He didn’t know what it was, but just the fact that Stella had seen something in him made him feel incredibly special. He breathed in assuredly and stared at his reflection in the mirror. If Samuel was to exact his revenge on this very night, then Danny was certainly well presented for when he would go up to heaven, or for when he would be transformed into a ghost. That was unless they were killed during the act. Would he just be a naked ghost for the rest of eternity then? If he made neither of these journeys in the afterlife then at least he would look good in the morgue.

  Michael was still rooted in the kitchen when he returned downstairs. He gave up on the knife idea. It was a straw-clutcher anyway.

  ‘You’re seeing her again this evening,’ Michael said, too much as a statement to be a question.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Think this is the right thing?’

  ‘She left Sam. Why shouldn’t we be together?’

  ‘He’s resigned to losing her? Is that what you’d do? Sit back and let her go?’

  ‘It’s over between them. He knows it.’

  ‘What’s he going to do to you next, Danny? Have you seen him anymore?’

  ‘No. I haven’t,’ he said, but it was a complete lie. Samuel’s tormented face had haunted him everywhere like some demonic messenger ready to report on his illicit acts. In crowds of strangers, his reflection in shop windows, lurking in the corner of his mind with that stare of death that conveyed his destructive intentions.

  Danny knew that Michael would see through his lies, but despite this threat looming over him, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He knew the depth of his feelings he had for Stella, could feel the bind that his soul had with hers like a pining ache in his chest. He would die without her.

  He wasn’t going to let fear dictate this. If death was the result of his relationship with her then so be it. He could maybe accept that his soul had fulfilled its purpose and melded with hers, releasing itself into the eternity. Perhaps Stella knew it was fate that they were destined to come together like this.

  ‘What if he comes for you again?’ Michael asked.

  Danny sighed dismissively. ‘What if this was you and Faridah? What would you do?’

  Michael glanced down at his letter, clearly chewing the thought over in his mind. Danny felt it was time he should leave.

  ‘I’ll see you later, Danny. Take care.’

  Danny paused and just gave a vague nod in reply. He didn’t want to say anymore and so he left, walking out into the fading light.

  In the kitchen, Michael drummed his fingertips over the letter. The kettle had boiled some time ago and the water was now going cold.

  Chapter 16.2

  Danny beamed a smile as she sat next to him at the bar. Stella smiled back. No words passed through their lips for a few minutes; no words needed to.

  That internal goblin now resumed playing that sweet, heavenly music that he’d started on the beach. Danny would now feel the rest of that tune. He no longer despised that creature within, for it was his ever-persistent playing that had led him to her, had led him to this very moment. The goblin was now his friend.

  She really was the most beautiful person in the world, flawless. Her perfectly proportioned cheeks that no geek could outshine with some computer generated imagery, her flowing eyebrows that curled like waves above her violaceous eyes. Oh those eyes!

  Danny ran his eyes up the naked flesh of her arm as she delicately picked up her glass. Her skin was so deliciously creamy and Danny wanted to run his palms over her. All over. And he knew that he would do later.

  ‘Do you still want to know the truth about us, my lost one?’ she asked as she sipped her vodka and lemonade.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Course you do. Here we are, two ships that have been floating along the lonely waves, and here we meet.’

  ‘Feels like I’ve been sailing a long time.’

  ‘I know you have, Danny. I feel your thirst. I want to feel it, feel it completely.’

  Danny felt his words spilling from him like seeds from a dandelion head, teased out by her electrifying presence. ‘Stella, I…’

  She placed her soft fingers to his lips and he stopped. ‘You don’t need to say anything, Danny.’

  He took her hand in his. For too long he’d been holding onto the words in his head and he knew it was time to voice them. Tonight he would release everything.

  ‘Stella, do you believe that the universe guides people so they come together, that they’re meant to be together? Do you believe in links between souls?’

  ‘You mean, do I believe in soulmates?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Her head began nodding softly and she lowered her gaze to her glass. Danny could see her eyes were welling with tears, pricked by a profound sadness.

  ‘No. I do not believe. I know.’

  They sipped at their drinks, a patient wait before the final step. Nothing but a jealous bullet could stop it now. Danny suddenly pictured himself back at school, waiting for the last bell to announce the start of the summer holidays.

  He eventually swallowed the rest of his whisky and they stood up to leave. They walked outside into the night, where the coruscating sky was filled with pinhead stars, a panorama that enticed contemplation of the depths and mysteries of the cosmos. Stella held Danny’s hand as they walked along the seafront street. It was as though he could see every constellation in the sky tonight, all the patterns coming together, the balance of the universe in perfect harmony.

  Being connected to her like that felt so peaceful. He had no worries, he was aware of nothing else but the moment. Buddhist monks could spend years meditating in an attempt to reach this tranquil mental state, but all Danny had had to do was hold her hand. As she led him down the street, it was as if she was leading Danny beneath the veil into another dimension, where Danny was aware of the universal energies that bound every atom in existence. Connecting with her fully could only heighten this sensation.

  Her apartment was in the last building on the street. She’d been in there only a week, a room with a sea view. As they walked inside, the spicy aroma of jasmine greeted Danny. She had candles out here and there but not much else; most of her stuff still seemed to be packed in bo
xes.

  She led him into the melancholic moonlight of her bedroom. Dropping her bag on a chair, she stood by the window. The calm waves were a rich shimmering purple and as Stella gazed upon them, Danny could see a glowing swell of even brighter violet in her eyes, as like a necromantic reaction to her desolate aquatic dominion.

  ‘Nobody should have to wait this long,’ Stella whispered.

  ‘I’m here,’ Danny replied as he ran his hand up her back, beneath her golden hair, feeling the peachy skin of her neck.

  ‘I know you are, Danny. And I’m here for you, here to show you the way.’

  ‘I’ve waited so long too.’

  ‘Yes. I know how it must feel. But I’m not as young as I look, you know.’

  Danny had always figured that she was a few years older than he. But so what? She could be ten years older and it wouldn’t matter one bit. Age was meaningless if people were supposed to be together, when it came to the desires of the soul.

  ‘With age comes experience,’ Danny said, stepping closer to her, smelling her fruity skin.

  Stella smiled at him. ‘Perhaps I have lots of things to show you then.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  He kissed her warm lips and she began to pull his shirt out from his trousers. Her breathing quickened as she began kissing his cheek, biting his neck. He could feel her frustrations burning within her. Danny wrapped his arms round her, holding her tight to him.

  ‘Stella…’

  She stopped kissing his neck and looked at him. ‘Yes, Danny.’

  ‘I love you.’

  She was silent, her face nodding gently. No doubt they were words she’d heard many times before. Only beautiful people could ever get bored of those three words, but Danny had uttered them with complete truth.

  Everyone’s in love with her, someone like her. Hard not to adore someone like her, isn’t it?

  ‘I thought you might say that,’ she replied.

  Danny didn’t know what she meant by that, but he knew what she meant when she began to unbuckle his belt.